Raging

A cyan anger blazed within his body, consuming every fiber of reason, shredding every strand of calmness.

He couldn't believe that he has the potential to be so destructively angry.

It has been a long while since he last felt such vehemence. Be like the rolling waves atop the oceans, he tended to remind himself, be peaceful and calm and meditative.

It was surprising to have this poison erupt. There was a sick kind of curiosity with this anger. He couldn't help being curious about it. It had washed over with a tidal power and left shards behind as it receded.

He picked up those pieces - tainted the angriest cerulean - and examined them. They were fragments of the past; they were portents. They had intricate motifs - interlace of lines that hissed with fire. Some shimmered with ire. Others moaned. The landscape was stark, layered with these azure pieces.